


like an april flood

by smudgythoughts



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Christmas, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Sam Ships It, brief warning of homophobia for like a sec, these nerds watch the polar express and figure out their feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-02 18:11:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13323690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smudgythoughts/pseuds/smudgythoughts
Summary: Sam seemed to understand what he was getting at. “You want to ask Cas—”“—to be my fake date for this party? Yes,” Dean finished.“What? No! Dean you should—”“Yeah, this is the perfect plan,” Dean interrupted.Or, Dean's date quits on him days before the annual family Christmas party, and he asks his friend Cas to fake-date him. Thing is, the feelings between them are anything but fake.





	like an april flood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wheniwrite28](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheniwrite28/gifts).



“Please, Cassie, please stay,” Dean pleaded.

“No Dean, it’s over,” Cassie said, voice final, tucking a lock of curly dark hair behind her ear. “When you asked me out on a date, I though, _what the hell_ , let’s see if the great Dean Winchester can stick to one person for a couple days.”

“I didn’t cheat on you,” Dean insisted.

“I almost wish you did, because then I would have a reason to explain all of this,” she said, gesturing to Dean. “You simply aren’t interested in me, I can see that. You spent our entire last date at the Roadhouse chatting it up with our waitress Jo, and the one before that talking about what colleges your friend Cas wants to go to, and how smart he is, and how pretty his eyes are or maybe what his dick tasted like—I don’t know, I tuned out before that. So if there’s some other girl or guy out there that you have your eyes on, go out with them instead of leading me on.”

It seemed like she’d finished her speech. She walked over to the other side of her kitchen and wrenched the door open. “Leave,” she said, voice only quivering a little bit.

He should argue with her, he should _want_ to argue with her. But all he did was said, “see you around, Cassie” and walk out the door. It slammed behind him with a loud _smack_.

The Impala he used to drive them here after their date was sitting in front of her house. He unlocked the door, slid in, and buckled his seat belt. He drove down a few blocks, then pulled into a little alleyway.

All he did was sit there. He didn’t know if it was for minutes or hours.

He should feel sad. He should be bawling his eyes out. But all he could think was, 'took her long enough.' Then he felt guilty, guilty that he put her in such a position. That’s all he really felt. Guilt. Shame.

His phone rung, and for a crazy second he thought it was Cassie, calling to say she wants him back. He wouldn’t answer it if it was her. He doesn’t really feel like talking to _anyone_ right now, not even his younger brother Sam or his best friend Charlie.

Oh. The display read ‘Castiel’, which, as formal as it was, was what his friend Cas had first entered his number into as. They’ve been on nickname basis for years now, yet Dean had never really had the heart to change it.

“Hiya Cas,” Dean said, overly casual.

“Hello Dean” Cas said. To anyone else he would sound stiff and rude, but Dean could hear the affection in his voice.

“Why’re you calling? Thought we only texted now.”

“We only text because you want to make fun of me for my use of emojis,” Cas said, dry as ever.

Fuck Dean, but he laughed. “You got me there, buddy.”

“So anyway, _buddy_ ,” Cas parroted back, because he’d always found Dean’s use of nicknames to be irritating. “I thought you would like to have a movie night tonight, it being a Friday and everything.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I’m in the mood, I just—” Dean paused. He hadn’t told Cas about Cassie. He’d told Charlie, and Sam, and Benny, and everyone else in his life, maybe even the mailman, but for some reason he’d never told Cas. “Took a difficult test,” he finished lamely.

“That’s alright, Dean, you don’t have to come—” Cas said, and Dean could tell from his tone that he was trying to be casual, but was actually disappointed.

“Actually, you know what, I think I’ll come over,” Dean said, because disappointing Cas physically pained him. “Will Charlie or any of the gang be there?”

“No, just us.”

Dean pushed down the little thrill that ran through him at the words _just us_. “Okay, cool, that’s good, that’s great, absolutely awesome—”

“See you soon,” Cas said, cutting off Dean’s rambling. Dean was thankful.

“Bye ba— buddy. Bye buddy.” Dean ended the call. He was blushing to the tips of his ears.

The movie night was nice, nicer than any of his dates with Cassie or Lisa or Aaron. He still felt too guilty to dwell on that.

“Dean, you can’t ignore this,” Sam insisted.

“Yes I can,” Dean said. “See? I’m doing it right now.”

Sam sat on the edge of Dean’s bed, looking like anything save for a meteor wouldn’t move him. Dean continued ignoring him, pretending to do his calculus homework at his desk, gripping the pencil so tightly it was a wonder it didn’t break.

“Dean, you can’t go on pretending like you never broke up with Cassie. And this is on _you_ for telling mom and dad that you’ll finally bring a date to the annual Christmas party, and then being enough of a jerk that Cassie broke up with you a week later.”

“It was a mutual break up,” Dean protested.

“ _Sure_. Anyway, why don’t you just come clean? Say you no longer have a girlfriend?”

“Because then mom and dad will be affirmed to the idea that I’m some sort of ‘man whore’ and can’t settle down with anyone.”

“Why are you making air quotes with your hands?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know, just a thing Cas does sometimes.” Dean suddenly got an idea. A terrible, reckless idea that just might work, or that may make his best friend hate him for the rest of his life. “Cas. Cas. Yeah, we might be able to pull that off.”

Sam seemed to understand what he was getting at. “You want to ask Cas—”

“—to be my fake date for this party? Yes,” Dean finished.

“What? No! Dean you should—”

“Yeah, this is the perfect plan,” Dean interrupted. “I’ll ask Cas to be my fake-date for the party—I’ve been meaning to ask him to come to this party for a couple years now anyway—and they we can pretend to be a couple and everything, and then we can 'break up' a few weeks later, no hard feelings. The only thing I told mom and dad about my date was that their name was Cassie, didn’t even use any pronouns if I remember correctly, and he’s been coming over to do homework and hang out and stuff for years, and I know they already like him… yeah, this is absolutely perfect!”

Sam didn’t said anything, only gave him the look that Dean knew all too well, the one that said _you’re an absolute idiot_.

“But what if he doesn’t say yes?” Dean mumbled.

“He’ll said yes,” Sam said, looking sad for some reason.

“Awesome, that’s all set,” Deans said excitedly. He briefly wondered why he was so enthusiastic about fake-dating his best friend, but then shook away that thought. “We’re going to the Roadhouse tonight, so I’ll just ask him then.”

“What, the Roadhouse, just the two of you?” Sam asked. Dean nodded. “The Roadhouse, the place you only take girls you’re interested in going to second base with to?” Dean nodded again.

“What’s wrong with that? I can’t take a friend there?”

Sam let out a long sigh, and _there_ was that face again. “Nothing,” he squeaked, looking for the first time in this whole conversation like the fourteen-year-old kid he was.

“You want me to _what_?” Cas asked, bacon burger in his hands and halfway to his mouth.

“Come along as my plus one to my family Christmas party,” Dean said again.

Cas’ blue eyes were wide, and he was smiling, really, truly smiling, like showing his teeth and everything. Huh. He only seemed to smile like that around Dean.

Before Cas got the wrong idea and like hated him forever, Dean added, “It’s a fake date.” At the same exact time Cas said, “I would love to go with you.”

“Wait, what? Fake date?” Cas asked, eyebrows creased together in a frankly adorable way.

“Yeah my original date quit on me. Oh. Just realized I never told you about her. Well her name was Cassie and she’s gone now. So I need a date so my parents don’t think I’m like, a loser or anything.”

“Cassie?” Cas asked, and Dean doesn’t know why that’s what he’s focusing on that out of everything.

“That was her name. Well still _is_ I guess, because she’s not dead or anything like that, we just stopped seeing each other.”

“And why did you ask me to “fake date” you, instead of any of your other friends?”

“Well my parents know Charlie’s a big ol’ lesbo, so that wouldn’t have worked. And beyond that… I don’t know. You’re the first person I thought of. I’m closer friends with you than I am Benny or Garth or anyone.”

“You came to me first to ask me to fake date you… because we’re such good friends.”

Dean didn’t know why Cas wasn’t getting this. He was the smartest person Dean knew, even more smart than Sam, could probably give Albert Einstein a run for his money. “And your name was similar to Cassie. Get with the program,” he joked.

Cas put down his burger. Oh wow. Things were serious now. “Okay, say I’m willing to do this. What would our fake dating entail?”

“Game plan? Okay, here we go.” Dean had been thinking about this more than he’d let on. “I go pick go up at your house, bring you home in the Impala. Make sure to wear something nice, but not too formal because my dad hates people like that. Maybe that nice blue sweater of yours. Then we should up at the door, introduce you as my boyfriend, yada yada.” It felt really darn nice for a second to call Cas his boyfriend, as fake as this was.

“Is there any kissing required?”

“No, man, I wouldn’t force you to do that.”

“Oh.” If Dean didn’t know better, he would almost think Cas looked disappointed. “And how long are we doing this for?”

“Just the Christmas party, maybe a little longer. Then we can break up.”

Cas stared at him for a long moment. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean said, smiling. “You’re such a great friend.”

“You can repay me by buying me a slice of pie,” he replied.

“No problem, buddy. Apple?”

Cas quirked his lips into a smile, and Dean let out a long breath. Things were okay. Things weren’t awkward between them. “You know me well.”

Five minutes in, and the whole thing felt a heck of a lot like a real date.

Dean had pulled up to Cas’ door at seven o’clock sharp, in his Impala, while wearing a nice gray button up over a Christmas sweater, and carrying a bouquet of roses.The roses may have been overkill, but his mom would kill him if he told her he didn’t bring his date flowers. Or so Dean told himself.

“Are those… flowers?” Cas gave him one of those squints that only _he_ could pull off as adorable.

Dean wordlessly thrust the flowers in his face.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said, and oh shit, now he’s smiling and if he doesn’t stop Dean might do something stupid like kiss him.

“They’re from the discount aisle at GIANT,” he said offhandedly. That was a lie. They were from an actual flower bouquet, as rare as they are in the winter. They cost him eight dollars.

“Still, thank you.”

“Ready to get this show on the road, buddy?”

“I think your family might raise an eyebrow at you calling me buddy, seeing as we’re supposingly dating.”

“Gotcha babe.”

“Honey.”

“Sweet cheeks.”

“Darling.”

“Angel.”

“Will you two lovebirds just leave already!” A voice Dean recognized as Gabriel shouted from the front porch. “And use a condom baby bro, I don’t want to be an uncle yet.”

They both blushed. Dean looked over at Cas, _really_ looked at him. Cas had traded his treasured trench coat for a blue sweater that stretched wide at his shoulders. It brought out his eyes. Dean wanted to kiss him. Instead he smiled and opened the car door for him.

“Any preference for music, fake date?” He asked once they were settled in the front seat.

“Well, uh, after you gave me that Led Zeppelin CD I kind of got into the band, and they’re rather good—”

“My kinda man,” Dean said, flipping through his tape deck until he found Led Zeppelin IV, and then sliding it in. _Black Dog_ began with a gentle purr.

He left the roses in the car.

His mom was the one to answer the door. An entire eternity passed in the time she stood there, mouth half-open, staring at Cas. Cas and him. Them.

Then her face split into a wide grin. “Castiel, it’s nice to see you! I can’t believe Dean didn’t tell me that you’re the one who he’s dating.” A look at Dean told him he would be getting an earful later.

“Yes, sometimes Dean gets caught up in things and forgets about the people around him,” Cas said dryly.

“Well I’m glad it’s you. You’ve been best friends for years before this, so you already know everything this is to know about my son. His stubbornness, stupidity, inability talk about his feelings—” She listed off.

“Mom,” Dean whined.

“Oh right. Let me take your coats. The family’s hanging out in the living room.”

One down, only the entire family to go. Hopefully he’ll have Sam there for support.

“Are you still into this?” Dean whispered to Cas with a frown.

“Yes, don’t worry,” Cas said back in that soulful way of his, and Dean felt something in his chest loosen.

“This’ll be easy peasy,” he muttered to himself, not really believing it. He reached down and held Cas’ hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, and then the two of them were stepping into the living room, all eyes on them.

Sam was a couch chatting to Jo. His grandpa Samuel and grandma Deanna were in the furthest corner digging into some eggnog. Ellen and Bobby were sitting on the other couch, watching was looked to be _It's a Wonderful Life_ with John, who was in that favorite armchair of his.

“Hello Dean! And Cas,” Sam called out.

“Hi,” Cas said back almost shyly.

Dean didn’t say anything, simply staring at John as if daring him to speak.

John had been gaping at them for a solid ten seconds, before he swallowed roughly and said, “It’s a shame your date quit on you. I’m glad to see you brought a friend.”

Dean wasn’t sure what possessed him to lean over and press a chaste kiss to Cas’ cheek. Cas took in a sharp intake of breath, but Dean was on too much for a roll to think about that. “No dad, Cas is my boyfriend. Has been the last few weeks. You are well aware of the fact that I’m into guys too.”

“But… no. That was a phase. That other boy was a phase. You are into girls, Dean, and I better see you marry one.”

Dean felt himself shrivel up, legs and arms locking in close to his sides like he’s trying to appear as small as possible. Besides him, Cas’ breathing was harsh, and he tightened his hold on Dean’s hand, looking like Dean being here was the only thing stopping him from going over and punching John in the face.

“John!” A voice barked from the doorway, and there was his mom, fury in her eyes, looking like an angel sent from the heavens.

“Our son is bisexual, as he has told you time and time again, which—surprise!—also includes an attraction to boys. This will never change, no matter how much you want it to. Now Dean’s boyfriend has been coming over here as a friend since he was ten, and he’s a lovely boy, and if you can’t accept our son dating him then you’re not spending Christmas in this house,” she finished with a flourish.

Dean felt his heart grow two sizes. John gave a short nod of his head, which meant he was letting it go for the time being, and Dean was finally able to breathe again.

“Hey Dean, over here! I need some help proving that Star Wars is better than Star Trek,” Jo called out from the couch.

“Coming,” he said to her, dragging Cas over. They were still holding hands. It was a nice feeling.

When they got over there, Dean realized that there was only one seat left on the couch. “Here, you sit,” he said to Cas.

“But where will you—”

Dean grabbed a pillow, placed it on the floor, and plopped down. “There, problem solved.”

Cas tentatively sat on the couch, and it was only after Dean leaned his head back against Cas’ legs and Cas carted a hand through his hair that Dean realized this was a _couple-y_ thing that they were doing.

“Well shit,” he muttered to himself, then tuned back into the conversation.

“Jo, Star Trek is just better. It’s a known fact. The technology was years beyond a person of that time period’s comprehension, simply genius—”

“—but does Star Trek have Harrison Ford,” Dean interrupted his brother.

“ _Good_ point,” Jo agreed.

“Dean, your crush on an actor isn’t a solid reason why an entire franchise is better than another.”

“Harrison Ford,” Dean repeated.

“Actually, I prefer Star Trek as well,” Cas piped up.

Dean stared up at Cas, a look of horror on his face as if Cas had burned down his house and killed all of his children. “Cas, buddy, we’re dating. You’re sort of required to take my side.”

“No I’m not. The multi-episode arcs and many seasons allowed for a complexity Star Wars could never hope to achieve. When Dean didn’t cease his glaring, Cas added, “Also Star Trek has Captain James T. Kirk.”

“Okay, Chris Pine is pretty hot, I’ll give you that.”

Now Cas is the one staring at him with dismay. “He’s only in the movies. There’s seasons upon seasons—”

“But Oscar Isaac and John Boyega,” Jo said.

“Mmm. The things I’d let them do to me…” Dean agreed.

“Dean!” Both Sam and Cas said, disappointment in their voices for what Dean guessed were completely different reasons.

“What? You jealous, babe?” Dean said, a shit-eating grin on his face. This was flirty, would be couple-y if they were actually dating. Which they aren’t. Dean was having a difficult time remembering that, especially when Cas was looking all cute and pouty.

“And I guess Star Wars does have Natalie Portman,” Sam added.

“Star Wars is for the gays only,” Dean joked. “Stop intruding with your straightness.”

“Both you and Jo are bi, not gay” Cas said, squinting.

“Technicalities,” Dean said, “Besides, I can’t even look at another person, not when I’m with you, babe.” Dean didn’t know whether he was laying it on too thick, or saying babe too much. Cas’ small smile meant just for him made it worth it though.

The four of them talked for the rest of the hour, trading banter and laughing, occasionally joined by his cousin Gwen. Then it was dinner, which was a quiet and semi-awkward affair. Dean didn’t really mind, because he was too busy shoveling mashed potatoes and gravy into his mouth while Sam looked at him like he wanted to disown him. Cas put away an impressive amount of baked rolls too. Dean idly thought that if they were really dating, Dean wouldn’t mind marrying the guy.

After dinner Dean pulled Cas aside and asked, “Do you want to go watch Polar Express in my room?”

Cas grinned. “Yes I would like that. Very much.”

They took the stairs two steps at a time, and his family minus Sam probably thought they were going to make out or something, but Dean didn't care. Cas’ eyes were blown so wide they look almost black, and his sweater fit him _just right_ , and Dean would be pretty alright with that making out right about now.

Cas went and made himself at home on Dean’s bed, stretching out and hogging all the pillows. Dean smiled stupidly at him for a moment, before finding the DVD on his shelf and sliding it into place. The familiar sequence began on screen and Dean laid down on his bed. He was all too aware of how close he and Cas were. He could easily reach out and take Cas’ hand in his if he wanted too. If he was allowed too. If this was real, and Cas actually liked him back. Instead Dean scooted over to the furthest side of his bed.

“Why, to the North Pole, of course! This is the Polar Express!” The conductor said on screen, as Dean turned to look at Cas.

“Do you remember the first time we watched this?” Dean asked softly.

“How could I forget? It was probably the most important moment of my life, as it was how we met and became friends.”

Dean didn’t answer, because what did you said to _that_? Instead he thought back to their first conversation.

They were ten, and Dean was the kid with a love for toy race cars and learning, and Cas was the kid who spent more time with books than people. It was a few days before winter break, and the class was on the playground, bundled up in coats and hats and gloves from fretting mothers. Every kid in the class was participating in an argument about the best Christmas movie. Everyone except Castiel.

So Dean, being the friendly fifth-grader that he was, went up to Castiel and asked him whether he liked _The Polar Express_ or _Elf_ better. Looking up from his book with his eyes wide as plates, Castiel softly said that he hadn’t seen either. Which led to Dean insisting he come over to his house and watch _The Polar Express_ , which then led to them becoming friends, and then best friends. They’ve watched it every year since.

Onscreen, the children were getting refreshments while the fast-paced hot chocolate song played. For some reason, thinking about how they had first met, the nostalgia of it, made Dean suddenly feel like crying. Maybe mashed potatoes made him hormonal.

“Dean,” Cas said softly.

“Yeah?” He asked, sniffling. If right now Cas said he loved him or some shit Dean was going to break out into actual tears.

“I really have to pee. I’m not sure I can hold it. Could I use the bathroom?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, laughing at the hilariousity of his situation. “You don’t have to ask.”

Cas got up and left the room to presumably find a bathroom. The one scene with the ticket falling through the snow and the bird and then back to the train came on, and Dean paused it because he knew it was Cas’ favorite part. Cas was gone long enough to make Dean worry.

“You okay?” Dean asked when Cas came back with a frown on his face.

Cas sat back on the bed, even closer than before. “Jo stopped me in the hall to talk to me.”

“And?” His first thought was that Jo hit on Cas, but then he shook himself and remembered that he’d known Jo even longer than Cas, and that wasn’t the kind of friend she was. His second thought was that she’d figured out they weren’t actually dating.

“She said she was glad we’d gotten together, that we’ve been pining for each other since ‘forever’ and that it had started to become sickening for her,” Cas said. “Dean, everyone in that room reacted very strongly my being your fake boyfriend and you officially coming out—”

“Yeah, sorry to wrap you up in all that,” Dean said, brushing a hand against the back of his rapidly reddening neck.

“I’m just glad it was me and not someone else. But Dean, when we ‘break up’ or say we weren’t dating for real or however you want to do this, I’m afraid that they’ll be even more disappointed in you than before.”

Dean could imagine it now, that stupid smug look on John’s face as he said, ‘I told you so.’ “So we keep fake dating. At least until New Year’s. Problem solved.”

Cas let out a frustrated sound. “Fine.” He glanced over at the TV. “You paused it for me?” He sounds almost… awed. Surprised, certainly.

“‘Course I did, buddy.”

They keep watching, as if there isn’t this simmering heat between them bubbling up to the surface, made stronger every time their knees brushed.

The creepy puppet scene came on screen, which Dean always hated, so Dean used it as an excuse to snuggle in closer to Cas’ side. There was blanket between them, but it might as well have been the entire ocean for much it separated them.

“Hi,” Cas said shyly. His breath puffed warmly against the side of Dean’s face.

“Hi,” Dean said back in the same tone.

Cas was staring at him. They’re so close that Dean can count each individual eyelash. That one cute dimple. The bold blue of this eyes. “This is stupid,” Dean muttered to himself, then leaned forward and kissed Cas. It was over as quickly as it began, barely a peck, but it made a sweeping heat settle deep in his chest.

“Dean,” Cas said. It was a question.

It was just the two of them. No one to put a show on for. Dean could back out of this now, say he thought he heard someone stomping up the stairs or some bullshit. Things could you back to the way they were before. But he has to take this plunge, this leap of faith, had to at least try. He loved Cas too much to not.

“I like you,” Dean said, feeling like a teenager girl with all these butterflies. “And I’ve liked you. And this whole thing was some stupid thing because I’m crap at actually talking about my feelings, and jumped at the chance to be able to date you, even if it was a short time, and even if it was fake. And I realized that this dating thing is pretty much how we behave with each other all the time, minus the kissing. It’s okay if you don’t return my feelings, I’m okay with going back and being friends—”

Cas shut him up with a gentle kiss. Dean gaped at him, feeling like a fish out of water. “I like _boyfriends_ better,” Cas said after pulling back. Just as Dean was starting to feel a smile form at the corners of his lips, Cas swung and hit him with a pillow in the chest. Hard.

“What was that for,” Dean spluttered.

“You’re a complete assbutt,” Cas said. “If you had just asked me out, I would have said yes.”

“Okay, I deserved that.”

“You did,” Cas agreed.

“Wanna go back to making out?”

“Very much so.”

They miss the rest of the movie, too wrapped up in each other. Cas' mouth tasted like peppermint and things long overdue.


End file.
